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by vehlr



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-15 10:29:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4603377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vehlr/pseuds/vehlr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ten days ago, she had been blissfully happy. Ten days ago, she had laughed and kissed a man who might yet have claim on her heart.</p>
<p>Ten days ago she had seen Varric. Perhaps for the last time.</p>
            </blockquote>





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**Author's Note:**

  * For [Msynergy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Msynergy/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Getting Home](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4471316) by [Msynergy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Msynergy/pseuds/Msynergy). 



_“Seeker, have you seen my earring?”  
_

_Cassandra pokes her head through the doorway from the hall. “What?”  
_

_“My earring.” He cups his ear to show her the absence. “I could have sworn I put them on the table –“  
_

_“Varric,” she sighs, shifting her weight. “I have to go.”  
_

_He straightens, a little contrite. “Shit, sorry, I thought you had a little longer – c’mere.” His hands reach for her, pulling her into a soft embrace. “Be careful out there,” he mumbles into her neck, and she smiles, arms tightening around him.  
_

_“I usually am,” she responds dryly.  
_

_“I mean it,” he warns, pulling back to regard her sternly. “If I have to come and rescue you from a pack of bears – wait, no, nevermind.”_

_She laughs, pressing a sweet lingering kiss to his lips. “I will be fine. Ten days, at most. I would not press further without you.”  
_

_“You’d better not,” he murmurs. “I’m not done with you.” And he grins as he winks, her laugh louder this time -_

The memory catches at her heart, now. Ten days ago, she had been blissfully happy. Ten days ago, she had laughed and kissed a man who might yet have claim on her heart.

Ten days ago she had seen Varric. Perhaps for the last time.

Josephine had been in tears when she had met Cassandra at the gates, pulling her from her horse into a fierce hug full of apologies and platitudes. The Seeker had been confused and worried and it was not until Cullen had pulled the Ambassador away and quietly handed her the missive –

\- _he has not woken up. It pains me to say this, but I fear we must prepare for the worst –_

“Oh,” she had whispered.

*

Days pass. The ravens fly overhead, silent and dark.

Now she lingers in the doorway of his quarters, silent and still. She had spoken little since arriving back in Skyhold, save for a shared prayer with the Commander every night.

It is still strange territory, to be in his room – even more so for his absence. But she sits at the end of his bed, drinking in the sight of his desk, his home away from home.

_Maker, bring him home. Bring him back to me.  
_

“Oi.”

Sera leans against the doorway, smile bright. “S’alright. He’s coming back.”

She does not respond. Everyone has said it, in their own way. She is sick of hoping.

The elf continues. “And you know me – I hate bullshit. Not gonna piss about with sentiment, am I?”

Cassandra looks up at her. “How can you be sure?”

“It’s Varric,” she says in an impatient tone, coming across to sit next to her. “He’s been through the fucking ringer, right? Not gonna be stopped by a dragon, is he?”

She manages a weak laugh. “I suppose not.”

“Exactly. So stop moping around here, come and have a drink with us!”

“I do not think you have ever invited me to –“

The glint catches her eye, and she stoops to retrieve the small golden hoop from underneath the small bedside table. It is small in her hands, worn and heavy, and she stares at it for a long time before bursting into aching sobs.

Sera wraps an arm around her shoulders. “It’ll be alright,” she repeats, softer now. “He’s definitely gonna come back for that. You know what he’s like with his personal shit.”

She wants to believe. She desperately wants to believe.

*

It is another three days before the battlements explode with noise. Cassandra pays it little mind, sat in the forge room staring into the orangey glow of the forge as her fingers brush the small earring hanging around her neck from a light chain. Sera had insisted on it – nowhere safer.

The runner hammers against the door, yanking it open.

“Seeker Pentaghast, they’re –“

The runner’s words are lost in the clatter as she pulls herself to her feet, shoving the chain back underneath her armour as she runs through the door. _Maker, let him live. Maker, please, let him live, do not take him from me this way_ –

She catches the sound of his voice as she rounds the corner to the stables, her throat giving way to a choked sob as he comes into view. He turns to face her, and she throws herself at him, arms wrapping tightly around him as she hides her face in his hair. _Thank you, Maker, thank you –_

“Hey,” he murmurs, hands gentle against her back as he pulls away to meet her eyes. His hand comes up to cradle her cheek, and her fingers wrap around his as she presses her face into his warmth. “I’m so sorry, Seeker.”

Sorry? Sorry for being almost killed by a dragon? She could laugh at that. She could cry. Maker, she could do a great many things just knowing he is alive and well and _here_ –

He is talking again, but the words buzz around her and she wants none of them. Her hands sink into his hair, pulling him sharply against her lips as she kisses him hard. _I missed you, I thought you were dead, I cannot bear it_. She pours her fears, her regret and her passion into the moment, pressing up against him for a second, a promise to stay by his side.

And then she breaks away, breathing uneven as she tilts his head back to look at him properly for the first time.

“Don’t you _ever_ do that to me again,” she whispers, not quite trusting her voice to remain.

“I won’t.” His hands tighten around her waist, eyes entreating her to believe him. And it is a hollow promise, in their life, but for that single moment she thinks he might just manage it - for her.

And _that_ is a powerful thought.

She cups his face in her hands, words failing her, but he kisses her softly and it says more than she can understand right now. All she knows is that he is here, solid and strong. _Welcome home,_ she says with gentle touch and soft tears. _Welcome home._


End file.
